Shattered Chains
by KousukeAsazuki
Summary: In an Egyptian-inspired world of sand and slaves, Shinji simply refuses to remain chained down. Aizen, the king of the land, finds his renegade personality more and more intriguing. Especially his fiery ambition to escape-- something they both share.
1. Failed Escape Artists

So. Yeah. This is a...uh. Thing I had in my head. It's not really different from most anything I've written, and I'm not looking to be all new and fresh with ideas. I just wanted to write it, so I did. Asking won't get it updated any faster, but I'd like to hear that you're interested in it? Enjoy~

* * *

"This way... hurry up!" The voice was hushed, for certain, but urgent and commanding. It belonged to a thin man-- a teenager, really-- with flowing blonde hair and a long face that showed only annoyance at his companions. If they could really be called companions. Associates, perhaps? Nah, that was putting it way too formally. Acquaintances? Too general. To hell with it, they were co-workers. Not that being a slave (Oh, no, wait-- their king had referred to them as _servants. _Right. Like that was better.) was really a _job_ in the sense that you could quit or you got breaks or... well, anything, really, except for the working part.

Regardless, there was a group of them, all focused on one goal: Escape. The demanding child that led the pack shot a glare over his shoulder as whispers from the group resonated through the empty halls. Everyone had been gathered at a ceremony for...whatever, he didn't care to remember, and he had plotted that exact time to make his big break. It was a fool-proof plan. Now if only he hadn't brought these damn fools along with him.

"Oi, I said shut up!" Hushed, still, but no quieter than the ones he was scolding.

"I didn't hear anything about shuttin' up, just hurry up!" Narrowed hazel eyes burned their way toward their 'leader'. A short sigh cut off an ending retort and a hand came to brush through vibrant-- _noticeable_-- orange locks. "Shouldn't you be paying attention to what's in front of you, anyway? Stop looking back here!"

"Shaddup. I gotta make sure none of ya are fallin' behind, don't I?" Another scowl and the blonde paused at an approaching corner. Gritting his teeth against the possibility of finding the few, lurking guards that managed to escape the ceremonial duties, he peeked around the wall. "We're good. C'mon, hurry up."

"Uh..."

"Uh?"

"Uh."

"Uh wha--" The scowling blonde seemed to lose his impatience once his head snapped back to realize the hold up. Busted.

Casually leaning against the opposite side of the long hallway the group had just successfully maneuvered, a young boy grinned freely at the escapees. "Uh oh," he chided in a lazy, sing-song voice. "Someone's bein' naughty."

"Get outta here, kid," the leader hissed. "We ain't got time t' play with ya today."

"Play?" The child seemed intrigued by the thought, but as he pushed off the wall to saunter toward the group, his expression didn't indicate a young boy with an interest in throwing a ball around or taking part in a game of chess. His grin only grew wider as he came face-to-... well, stomach, with the tall blonde. His head cocked back to peer up at the frowning teenager and linked his arms behind his silver-coated head. "I don't think ya oughta be playin' right now. Ain't there somewhere you're s'pposed t' be?"

"Shouldn't ya be there, too?" His teeth grit against each other again. "Get outta here, Gin."

"Hmmm..." For a moment, he looked as though he might consider doing just that. His grin diminished into a thoughtful frown and his eyes opened a bit wider than usual-- which wasn't much to speak of, at all.

"Well?" Impatience, the _'_'servant' had never learned, was a fault.

"...Nope." The grin returned and the child stepped back a short way, around the corner that the group was huddled by. "Hey! Guards! There are some slaves tryin' t' escape!"

"Son of a-- Come on!" With a low growl, Shinji whipped away from the corner and the _loud _child, darting back down the way they had just come. A glance over his shoulder showed that while his group had chosen to follow him, so had some of the lingering guards. "The hell they come from?!" he demanded.

"Nice one," another of the group scoffed. Flashy red hair tied high atop the young teen's head swung back and forth wildly with each hasty step. "Next time, save your bright ideas for a plan that only gets _you _in trouble."

"Trouble won't be the only thing this'll get us," the sole female of the group assured the rest. She was a head or two shorter than all the rest, and her peculiar black hair curved upwards in a way that was surely unnatural.

"Renji, ya chose t' come with me!" the blonde reminded in an irritated voice, racing down a corridor he hoped was empty. "An' Rukia, ya shut up, too. Don't give 'em ideas."

"Ideas?" Not so empty, as it turned out. The voice halted the group's progress immediately, each member sharing their own expression of fear or disgust. "Do I put forth an image so unimaginative that I appear to be in need of ideas regarding punishment for a few, unruly servants?"

"You." The single word was uttered with possibly more disgust than was normally manageable. This was no normal circumstance, though, and certainly no normal encounter. "Aizen."

Standing tall and proud, donned in luxurious, light-colored garments that flattered his broad-shouldered figure, their king loomed. His shadow, enhanced by the bright afternoon sun pouring in from the open doors behind him, engulfed the runaways like shackles-- something they were curiously free of. He didn't appear upset by the situation; quite the opposite, in fact, with a soft look to his eyes and a light smile lining his , at least he didn't _appear_ upset.

"And you are the most impudent of them all, aren't you?" As he spoke, he advanced slowly, regally. "Hirako."

This only caused the teen in question to grit his teeth-- a habit he was rather fond of when irritated-- and snarl a bit as response. "Ya ain't seen the worst of me, yet."

"Such energy," the king spoke lowly, stopping mere inches away from his captured prey (because he certainly possessed all the qualities of a fine predator). His hand came up, firmly cupping the younger male's cheek. "You should put more of that effort into your work, rather than futile attempts at escape." A light chuckle rose from his throat. "How many does that make this? Four? Five?"

"Shaddup," Shinji barked, looking on everything like a feral dog. "Maybe if ya turned your damn back for once, I'd actually make it outta here."

"Mind your tongue, trash." This voice was hardly new, and the collected, condescending tone that came with it was nearly as irritating as Gin's or Aizen's. It belonged to a relatively short, extremely pale-skinned man with piercing green eyes and a mess of black hair. It was a running joke-- all of Aizen's close companions and advisors were so pale because they were never forced outdoors under the harsh sun. Indeed, both Gin and this Ulquiorra were whiter than a sheet of bleached papyrus paper.

"The hell'd ya call me?" Shinji demanded, yanking his chin from Aizen's grip to point his face in the guard's direction-- oh, excuse him, _head_ of the _Royal Guard. _Pfft.

"I refuse to waste my breath on such irrelevant scum." He had appeared by Aizen's side, his cold gaze seeping into Shinji's own enraged one. No sooner did the words leave his lips than his arm extended, hand firmly wrapping around the blonde's throat. "Or shall I simply rid Lord Aizen of your bothersome presence, now?"

Shinji was an instinctual creature, and so his immediate reaction was to fight back against something that was assaulting him in such an obvious way. His hand never raised further than a foot before Aizen's words reached his ears, weighing down on him like a crushing wave.

"I'm afraid I will not be able to excuse your actions, Hirako," he spoke, the soft smile disappearing into a concerned expression, "if they continue upon their intended path." As expected, the blonde's hand dropped (with some effort) back to his side. Also, as anticipated, came the demand to call off his 'guard dog' and the inevitable questioning gaze from said mutt. "I believe a short break from the stress of work will clear your head." Aizen tilted his head in Ulquiorra's direction. "Take Hirako and his friends to the dungeon, and make an effort not to maim him too terribly." That smirk again. "Such a pretty face should remain unblemished, if at all possible."

"You son of a--" Shinji restrained every fiber in his body begging him to attack as his narrowed eyes found Aizen's back turning from him and departing back to the outside world-- toward the freedom he longed for. "Aizen! This ain't over! Just ya wait!"

"Come," Ulquiorra ordered calmly, shoving a hand into the small of Shinji's back, directing him toward a place he knew all too well.

"Shoulda known this would turn out bad," Renji muttered under his breath, trudging along behind his 'leader', as he, Rukia, and Ichigo were escorted by half a dozen guards toward their destination.

_**

* * *

**_

"This is a bunch of shit," Shinji growled through the bars that were closed before him. He glowered at Ulquiorra as the stoic guard departed the dank dungeon with no parting words.

"You're just pissy because you got chained up," Ichigo commented idly, held in a neighboring cell. While the lead of the pack had the privilege of his own, personal cage, the rest of the conspirators were shoved into one. Of course, the upside (if it could be called that) was that their hands weren't chained to a wall.

"Ya'd be pissy, too!" Shinji snapped back, the heavy links rattling as his body instinctively leaned toward the boy he wanted to rip to shreds at the moment.

"Keep it down, would ya?" This voice was just as, if not more, disgruntle than Shinji's, and held a rougher, edgier tone to it. "S'bad enough I gotta be stuck in here. I don't need a bunch've loudmouthed idiots makin' noise."

"Grimmjow." Shinji's tone held a touch of loathing toward the azure-haired man, but also one of slight pity. Grimmjow was probably the one person in the entire palace that was down here more than he was. Though, granted, his acts were a bit more of a violent nature than the failed escape artist's. "Thought ya'd be dead, by now."

"As if," the unruly man snorted, sounding for the world like he was sitting on a throne instead of a cold, prison floor. "Ya know they can't get rid of me."

"Why not?" Shinji muttered, glancing through the empty rows of prison cells-- they had been sealed off pretty far back for being the only ones in there. "I don't see why the bastard don't get rid of us both. Ain't like we ever sit still long enough to do any real work."

"Don't complain," Ichigo told him, in a tone that suggested he was a complete idiot. "Or you really will be dead next time."

"Ain't complainin'." Shinji began tugging at the chains, checking their resistance and weak spots. "I also sure as hell ain't stayin' down here until he decides to let me out."

"You're not going to try and run again, are you?" Rukia asked, her wide eyes stretching open even more at the thought.

"Run? Hell no. I've had enough of that." Slowly, the blonde's teeth came to grate against each other as he gave the binds another good yank. "I'm takin' the bastard out."


	2. Relocation

"You're an idiot," Grimmjow said lazily, his lip curling just a touch against his teeth as he spoke. "Stop while ya ain't dead." After a moment's thought, he then shrugged. "Or don't. Whatever suits ya, but ya ain't takin' out Aizen."

Shinji narrowed his gaze through two particular bars to focus in on the other man. "An' what makes ya so sure I can't?" he challenged.

Not impressed by the show of arrogance-- this kid had plenty of it-- the muscled man shifted a bit in his spot and chose instead to break the eye contact and study nothing at all off to the side. "Why the hell do ya think I'm in here so often?"

It wasn't Shinji who spoke next, but one of the unfortunate group that had been jailed along with him. "You can't mean you really tried to kill him," Rukia said, frowning.

"Of course he don't mean it," Renji told her, waving a hand dismissively. "Ulquiorra'd kill him on the spot if he even thought about it."

"Like hell he would!" Grimmjow protested, the chains that held him to the wall rattling with protest as he pulled against them to advance as far in his cell as he could. His eyes were narrowed just a bit more than usual and his grimace was stretched into a full-blown scowl. "That little bitch couldn't take me if 'e tried!"

"Then why are ya in here?" Shinji asked, a scathing tone lacing his smirk. "I doubt ya walked in willingly."

A low growl vibrated up Grimmjow's vocal chords before he flopped inelegantly back to the ground, legs crossed and fists resting against his knees. "Took more than just that punk t' get me chained up, an' ya best believe he's the first one I'm goin' after when I get the fuck outta here."

"Keep talkin' like that an' ya won't," Shinji advised, his own links clanging lightly as his arms dropped in frustration. "Goddamn chains."

"For such a poorly-kept place, the structures down here are surprisingly sturdy," Rukia observed, pushing against the bars that separated her, Ichigo, and Renji from Shinji. "I guess there's really no escaping, huh?"

"Ya don't give up that easily when you're trapped," Ichigo told her, giving the female a light knock to her head before studying the same steel she had been so intent on.

"Hey!" she protested, rubbing her head and scowling upward at the bright-haired teen. "I don't see you doing anything."

"At least he ain't admirin' the cage he's trapped in," Shinji muttered, an uncomfortable grunt sounding from his throat as he watched Ichigo try and fail to even rattle the prison bars.

"I always give credit where it's due," Rukia muttered under her breath as she retreated to the far side of their cell.

"There's gotta be some weak spot in these things," Ichigo growled, giving the bar a good kick.

"Weak spot?" Gin leaned against the small group's cell door, peering through the bars, a wide grin plastered on his face. "Ya'll tryin' t' run again already? S'pretty brave of ya, ain't it?"

"Get outta here, ya little brat!" Renji shouted, hands immediately balling into fists as he advanced toward the door. "Haven't ya caused enough trouble for one day?!"

"Oooh, scary," the child mocked, stepping back with his hands raised. "But ya ain't so frightenin' on the other side of those bars."

Renji's hands wrung themselves around the steel, a glare aimed down at the boy. "Just wait until I get outta here. I'll give ya somethin' t'--"

"Renji!" Rukia appeared promptly at her friend's side, shoving an elbow into his stomach. "Don't make things worse by being an idiot!"

"Ow!" The redhead turned his heated gaze to the girl, though his hands remained firmly planted around the cell bars. "Don't tell me not to react like this when that kid's the reason we're in here at all!"

"Actually," Gin said from his position now closer to Shinji's cell, "you're in here 'cause ya tried t' sneak out." He gave a thoughtful look before nodding. "An' 'cause ya were bad at it."

"I'm gonna kill 'im," Renji growled, his entire body nearly shaking with the desire to reach right through those bars and strangle the kid.

"You can't do anything from in here, so calm down," Rukia suggested, heaving a sigh and sliding down to the floor where, thankfully, Renji joined her soon after.

"Why're ya here, Gin?" Shinji demanded. His irritation at the child was no less severe than Renji's, but kept in slightly better check. Of course, he agreed whole-heartedly on his friend's 'Kill the Brat' campaign.

"Lord Aizen sent me down," the child confirmed, grinning through the bars at the captive. "Seems not everyone's as down on their luck today as the lot of ya."

Shinji watched, wide-eyed, as the youngest swung a key lazily around his finger. "The hell... ya can't really mean--!"

Surely enough, the silver-haired boy made his way over to Grimmjow's side. "Yup," he confirmed, unlocking the cell and standing back as the door creaked open. "Said he wants t' talk to ya, personally."

"The fuck?" Grimmjow snarled, eye twitching as the child came closer to him. "No way in hell I'm talkin' to that bastard!"

"Well, do whatever ya like," Gin told him, easily strolling up beside him to withdraw a smaller key from his pocket, slipping it in the shackles around the man's wrists.

"What makes ya think I won't just kill ya as soon as ya let me go, an' make a run for it?" That _would_ be the most logical course of action for someone in his position. After all, there was no possible way Aizen was going to say anything more than that he had finally deemed Grimmjow too much of a threat to allow to live any longer.

"Ya ain't the type t' run, are ya?" Gin wondered, taking only a small step back as the binds were released. "After all, I'm sure ya'd just go after Lord Aizen, anyway, an' ya won't know where he is until I take ya to 'im."

"He'll be where he always is," Grimmjow told him, standing up and stretching, flexing his fingers and peering down at the child. "He's rooted to that fuckin' throne."

"Well, if that's where ya think he is, then be my guest," the child offered, not intimidated by the looming, murderous intent he was surrounded by. Instead, he choose to turn his back to the freed captive and make his way toward the dungeon's exit. "The only one there is Ulquiorra, though."

"Ulquiorra." Grimmjow's voice lowered an octave and became more guttural and fierce. "Ya really think... I'd follow ya now, knowin' where he is?! Ya gotta be stupid!"

"Oh?" Gin peered over his shoulder, grinning widely. "But wouldn't ya rather get at Lord Aizen while 'e ain't around?"

"..." The azure-haired male was silenced by that question. If what the kid was saying was true, and not just scripted with the intent of subduing his rage for a bit longer, then this would be the perfect opportunity. Ulquiorra was always near Aizen; always ready to pounce on anyone that looked like they might speak or act out against him. If he could get near Aizen without that attack dog lingering, then he'd surely have the upper hand. After all, Aizen was probably weak and never had to fight for himself-- he'd be easy to take down without anyone guarding him.

"Idiot, what're ya doin'?!" Shinji shouted, glaring daggers at Grimmjow. "Just kill the kid an' let us outta here!" Gin hadn't been so cautious to remove the cell key from the lock, but instead had left it dangling there without a care. It wasn't as if any of them could actually get to it, after all.

"Well?" Gin called, having paused at the end of the corridor, by the stairs. "What're ya gonna do? Lord Aizen's waitin'."

Grimmjow nearly snarled, eyes flickering between the child and his path to Aizen and his fellow cell mates. He knew he'd be pissed-- _royally_ pissed-- if someone had the chance to let him out and ignored it. On the other hand, he knew Gin would leave immediately, without giving him a chance to keep up, if he took the time to free the others. Release a few dumb asses that got themselves caught by being stupid and unobservant, or get his chance at taking down Aizen? That answer was pretty obvious.

"Bastard," Shinji growled in his throat as the freed man gave a slight shrug and left them behind.

"There's no way he'd pick us over that," Ichigo piped up, looking just as displeased.

"Maybe he'll come back," Rukia said hopefully. "You know, if he actually..."

"No way in hell," Shinji scoffed. "Ya really think Aizen's that defenseless? He's got somethin' up his sleeve for everything. 'Sides, he knows Grimmjow's comin' an' what kinda person he is. He ain't that stupid."

Ichigo scoffed and Renji shifted uncomfortably, but none of them could disagree. Regardless of Aizen's physical capabilities, he wasn't an unaware man. Likely, he had everything planned out from the beginning.

"The most we can hope for is that we're let out soon," Rukia said softly, a light sigh slumping her shoulders.

"And that we get some grub," Renji mumbled, settling a hand over his stomach.

Shinji shifted in his seat again, grimacing at the keys dangling from the newly-empty cell's door. "Grimmjow, ya better know just what the fuck you're doin'."

* * *

"Here we are," Gin announced, grinning back at Grimmjow as he stopped in front of a set of large double doors. He paused for a moment, wondering if it were best to leave before the man actually went inside, but deemed his mission accomplished and gave Grimmjow a wave. "Have fun."

"Eh?" He was leaving just like that? It was a part of the palace he'd never been too-- secluded off the left wing where he only knew of the more favored residents' rooms to be held, namely Gin and Ulquiorra. Maybe this was... nah, no way. Like hell Aizen would summon Grimmjow to his own room.

"Lord Aizen said he wanted t' talk to ya alone," Gin explained, never breaking his casual stride as he did so. "So my job's done. Don't get yourself in more trouble, yeah?"

"What the..." So there he was, completely alone and unwatched. Aizen didn't know he was there, yet, and Gin had just disappeared around a corner. If Grimmjow wanted to, he could run right now. Forget everything about revenge and making these assholes suffer and just get _away_. He scoffed at the floor. "Away t' where?" he asked himself. Even if he did get out, even if he was taken right to the front door, where would he go? It was a desert for fuck's sake and this was the most populated and well-off city in a hundred miles of any direction. Without transportation or even direction, he'd wind up dead of dehydration and buried in the sand before anything.

Spitting out a few more cusses, Grimmjow grabbed the handles roughly and shoved both of the doors open, walking in slowly, surveying the room. It was, indeed, a bedroom, though much smaller than one he'd pictured Aizen deeming appropriate for himself. The walls were a blue-tinged white with pronounced borders of the deepest, purest blue he'd probably ever seen. The bedding was fresh and crisp, not at all luxurious like he imagined a king sleeping in. The room was also sparsely decorated as far as furniture was concerned, and only a single bay window opened out to a rather bland courtyard-- not that many flowers or plants thrived in the desert-- in front of which Aizen himself stood, gazing out at seemingly nothing. Was this really his room? It seemed below him, for all the arrogance he showed.

"Curious?" the king wondered, finally glancing over his shoulder to catch Grimmjow's movements in his sights. "You look confused."

"Why'd ya call me here?" Grimmjow demanded, keeping his distance and curling his hands into fists, ready to pounce at the first opening he saw. How, even with his back turned, Aizen seemed guarded, he wasn't sure, but that was irrelevant. Someone so laid-back and seemingly carefree had to have openings. He just had to.

"Is it suitable?" Aizen wondered, disregarding the question to turn and face the other man fully, gesturing around the room. "I don't imagine it will serve much use, so I didn't put a great deal of effort into decorating."

"Stop talkin' 'bout the fuckin' room!" he shouted, irritated at Aizen's utter lack of attention. "Answer my question! Why'd ya call me in here?!"

Aizen didn't answer right away, his lips curving downward slightly. "There is no need to shout, Grimmjow." Slowly, he approached the other, keeping enough distance as to not appear entirely threatening. "I'm able to hear you well enough if you speak normally."

"Fuck you," Grimmjow spat, the muscles in his arm tensing to draw back and strike the smug look right off Aizen's face. "Give me some answers, or I'll just beat ya down right here. I ain't got a problem with that." Actually, the more he thought about it, he really preferred that outcome.

"You wish to know why I called you here, from your prison cell." The faint, assured smile returned. "It is not so much a summons, as a relocation."

Grimmjow faltered at that. "Relocation?" he repeated slowly, warily. "The hell're ya goin' on about?" He was being relocated? Where was worse than that musty ass dungeon?

"Did I not speak clearly?" Aizen wondered, once again gesturing to the room. "I have simply reorganized your living arrangements for your duration here."

One blink. Two. And three. Starting just a little, Grimmjow eventually took his eyes from Aizen to look around the room once more. Of course it hadn't been nice enough for a king's room, but it was a hell of a lot for a slave-- a favored one, even. Did Aizen really mean for this to be _his _room?

"No fuckin' way."

"You decline?" An eyebrow raised. He hadn't quite expected Grimmjow to be entirely accepting of his ideas, but surely he would trade a dark dungeon cell for a room with a lock on the inside.

"Why the fuck would ya put _me _up in this?" Grimmjow wasn't the most logical thinker, and he was impulsive as all hell, but he wasn't completely stupid and this stank of a scheme. "Ya ain't got a reason in Hell."

"Hell?" Aizen chuckled softly and closed the distance just a bit more. "Dear Grimmjow, your Hell is over." His hand raised lightly, characteristically cupping the cheek of the object of his attention. Even more, as he spoke, his features softened and his tone smoothed into a lulling calm. "I do apologize for acting so ruthless before, but I guarantee I will put every effort at my disposal toward correcting those actions. I can do nothing but honestly confess that your unpredictable nature is one that simply captivates me entirely. In dealing with the likes of Ulquiorra and Gin on a daily basis, a feral person such as yourself is remarkably refreshing."

Grimmjow's body remained rigid and his eyes focused wide and unblinking at the words. The only thought running through his head was something along the lines of 'What the fuck?' and his instincts were to either break that hand that dared touch him, or bolt. Now. Instead, though, his limbs remained frozen and his throat tightened to where he could barely speak. When he finally did, it was low, but hardly dangerous; strained, if anything.

"Keep your fuckin' hands off've me an' don't ya ever call me 'dear' nothin' again, an' I won't kill ya." His eye twitched slightly as he broke the contact, jerking his head to the side to emphasize his point.

He wanted, badly, to scream at Aizen or to punch him square in the face. Hell, even flipping him off and walking out might have been satisfying. What did he care what 'captivated' him, or what he found 'refreshing'? He didn't give a shit. But his thoughts from earlier came back in full force, stopping any rash actions, for once. He was pretty much stuck in this city unless he wanted his life to be forfeit by default. If that was the truth, then what good would making his life harder be? The more he was around Aizen, the closer he got to him, the higher the chance would be that he could find a weakness; some sort of blatant opening. Maybe he didn't need to escape this place like Hirako and everyone else intended to time and time again; maybe he could just take it over.

"That sounds like an acceptable trade," Aizen agreed, lowering his arm and stepping around Grimmjow toward the door. "Make yourself at home, for the time being. I'll send for you later."

"One more thing," Grimmjow said, tipping his head over his shoulder to catch Aizen's form out of the corner of his eye. "I wanna punch Ulquiorra in the face."

Aizen couldn't help but smirk at the request and answered with a low chuckle as he opened one of the doors. "I will neither condone nor forbid such an action. Simply be aware that I will return the same favor toward whatever repercussions may result."

"Whatever, so you're sayin' I can kill 'im, right?" No answer was a good enough one for Grimmjow, and he was tired of being around Aizen, anyway. Satisfied with being alone for the time being, he flopped back onto his bed-- not nearly as hard and lumpy as it seemed-- and heaved a sigh. He was still frowning, but not entirely displeased with how things had turned out. Sure, Aizen's advances were freaky and way unwarranted, but as long as he kept his distance, Grimmjow didn't mind the attention. Even more so if he could freely kick the shit out of Ulquiorra every time he saw him. With probably the most pleasant thought he'd had in a long while breaking a grin across his face, Grimmjow's body relaxed into a heavy rest.

* * *

Annnnnnd everyone else is still stuck down in their cells because Grimmjow was all LOLBAIGAIZ. I would have been, too, tbh, but for completely different reasons, probably. Anyway, why hello thar update. Definitely love writing Grimmjow, still. We're focusing on him for the next few chapters, so get used to it. And yes, I guarantee he'll punch Ulquiorra in the face at least once. At least.


End file.
